Mothership
by Ichigo to Hana
Summary: Random collection of MARVEL characters doing this or that, depending on my mood. For a friend of mine so they'll accompany me to a lecture. Ratings and pairings vary, please see chapter title.
1. Freezingly Hot (M)

**CHAPTER 1 Freezingly Hot**

Okay, for this one we need a little exposition.

This project will be a collection of unconnected one shots - to get a friend of mine to come with me to a lecture... They challenged me to write something new for them to read every week and then they'll tag along. So here we are.

There will be different pairings (not all of which I/we ship), with different ratings in each story, depending on what she asked me to write. I'll tell you at the beginn of each chapter, which rating it's going to be and any warnings you might want to take into account.

You can expect a new one every week, depending on how fast said friend can beta them over the course of the week.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong entirely to MARVEL.

 _Pairing_ : Tony x Loki

 _Rating_ : M

 _Warning_ : This is a male x male story featuring mature themes.

Have fun ^^

* * *

Tony looked around himself in the hall. After class school broke out into pure chaos. Chattering students everywhere and there was nowhere to lay low. Within minutes he found himself surrounded by girls, all giggling and tugging coyly at his arms. "Tony," one of them blinked up at him through lowered lashes. "Could you help me with my maths homework?"

"No, he promised to do the physics project with me!"

"No, the essay for English. We wanted to start early!"

"You aren't even in his English class."

Before long they were all screaming at each other in those high-pitched voices. Tony rubbed at his temples. _I would love to enjoy all this attention, but right now I'd rather have another lecture with Fury than these screeching vultures…_

Contradictory to his normal mannerisms, Tony attempted to slink away from the girls without being noticed. Only, that didn't quite work out as planned.

"Anthony," a smooth voice said. Tony felt the now familiar shudder run down his spine at Loki's use of his full name. The other young man didn't need to be loud to be heard even over the ruckus in the halls of a high school. Like Moses the Red Sea, Loki parted the student body on his way over. Most students tried to avoid the tall and dark figure of him whenever possible. Even, if Loki was the brother of Thor, beloved star athlete. Within the first week of being at school the young man had proven to be nothing like his older brother. Not only were his favourite colours obviously black and green. Favourably the young man wore tight leather pants and flapping coats, his raven hair even longer than Thor's, reminding Tony significantly of a sinister Christmas tree when not styled appropriately. In addition to his kind of punk look, pranks were a daily occurrence around Loki, as well as detention for everyone uninvolved. His magic didn't help with his reputation either. Loki held an aura of mischief and danger about him that reflected in the sparkling of his green eyes and rare, albeit too bright smile.

"Here you are." Loki threw a cold stare at the girls still flocking to Tony's arms. "Reindeer Games," Tony greeted with a half smirk. The nickname had stuck from when both of them had still been fighting on a daily basis – and not made up afterwards with … well you can probably imagine. Tony still felt a ridiculously bright smile light up his face at the mere thought of it. With Loki of all people!

Some of the girls shrank away from Loki's stare, excusing themselves and disappearing. _Clever. He doesn't look too pleased…_ But some stuck stubbornly to Tony's arm. "I see you gathered quite the fan club, Anthony." Shining emerald clashed with chocolate brown. "Does that make you feel better? Being in control?" Tony already lifted his chin to give an according reply. Only one of the girls, that still withstood the thinly veiled threat in Loki's eyes, beat him to it. With blazing eyes, she stepped closer to the at least two heads taller Loki. "And why would you care?" she demanded to know. She obviously hadn't heard the news yet. _Oh good grief_ , Tony groaned lightly. _So much stupidity in one place. And I honestly thought my love life was the favourite gossip of everyone at school…_

Unfortunately for the girl, Loki didn't seem to find her courage as amusing as he might have in any other situation. "Careful, how you speak to your gods, mortal," he growled darkly. "You are not my god," the girl lifted her chin defiantly. "Could someone please tell her to shut up?" Tony mumbled more to himself, since nobody seemed to listen to him – an impropriety in itself. "So, I am not your god?" Loki tilted his head with narrowed eyes, the fire of his magic dancing freely in the green orbs. "Well, we could always change that. How about it?" Like a large cat circling its prey, the trickster stepped towards the shorter girl. "One day in my clutches and you will not defy me anymore." Tony felt a shudder run down his spine. _The day is a generous offer. He would only need an hour to have her begging for him. On her knees. That damn Silvertongue._

Loki's green eyes snapped up to stare at Tony. Even the girls had turned to stare at him wide-eyed. _Ah yes. I just said that out loud. Brain-mouth-coordination at its best. Great._ He gave his best arrogant smirk, saying a little louder: "Although it's hardly fair with magic at the tips of your fingers. That's simply cheating. Even, if you avoid performance issues thereby." A single black strand fell over Loki's eyes as he tilted his head down. And suddenly the world seemed to slow. If nothing else, the predatory gleam in those pools of green stole Tony's breath away. It felt as if his heart stuttered in his chest, images flooding his mind as Loki dragged his tongue deliberately slow over his bottom lip. _If it weren't for all those people, I would allow him to take me right here and now… Actually? To hell with them. They already know me. Let them know him just as well. I can do what I want._

"I still refuse to let you treat Tony like that. He isn't one of your belongings," the girl suddenly spoke up. "And here I thought, we've been obvious enough," Tony grumbled under his breath. With the uncanny precision of his throwing knives, Loki's attention snapped back to the short female before him. His brows furrowed in a dark frown. "Well, then let me put this in terms even a puny mortal such as yourself can understand," he took a step even closer to her, towering over her, lips curled in disdain. "I care, because Anthony is mine. He belongs to me as I to him." The girl blinked surprised, which prompted Loki to step closer still, cornering her between himself and Tony, almost squishing her between their chests. "Or, if you need the blunt form: He is my boyfriend, hands off."

With a gasp, the girl staggered back and right into Tony. On instinct, the young man reached up and caught her shoulders. One look told him everything he needed to know. "Great Lokes," he drawled. "Now she's scared out of her mind. Good job." Loki looked down at the girl without moving his head in the slightest. The message was clear enough: _"Why should I care? She is but a mere mortal."_

"What did we say about compassion?" Tony carefully moved her out of his boyfriend's line of sight. "That I do not have it," Loki deadpanned. "Those were your words, Anthony, so do not dare look at me like that." Tony, of course, rose to the challenge: "Like what? It's my face. Got a problem with it?" Thin lips curved upwards to stretch into that typical close-mouthed smile that was so Loki. Nothing else, just that sneer and the sudden hungry gleam in his eyes. It told Tony what he needed to know.

A soft wind indicated a portal open behind his back even before Loki pounced on him and pushed them both through it. The hall faded away. Dark swirled before Tony's eyes for a few seconds, his head spinning with the sensation of falling. Only lean arms suddenly encompassing his waist grounded the young man to reality. "Do not try to run from me."

"I'd never dare, Rock of Ages."

* * *

Slowly Tony was able to see his surroundings once again. They were in his bedroom in his apartment. _Of course. Where else would we head to through a sudden portal in the middle of the hallway…_ He looked up at his boyfriend. "You know," Tony began, "I'm not in the mood right now. Threatening innocent people, no matter how dumb they are, is really not a huge turn-on for me." Loki looked back at him with a blank expression. "I know you're kind of into that whole begging and grovelling at your feet thing, but right now I am in no mood for that, 'cay?" Tony turned away from his boyfriend and walked to his desk.

Atop it, parts of his newest invention littered the surface, so Tony wasted no time getting right back to work. _I know Loki didn't mean to frighten her that much, at least I think. She was pretty obnoxious and annoying anyway… Couldn't take a single hint. It's not as if we were trying to keep it secret either. We have been together constantly from the beginning on._

"If you want me to leave, then just say so, Man of Iron," a quiet, defiant voice broke through his train of thought. A glance over his shoulder revealed Loki still standing in the middle of his room, attempting to stare a hole through his head, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Leave?" An exasperated sigh. "Have you turned into a parrot now, Anthony?" His chair scraped over the floor as the brunet shoved it back to get closer to Loki. "Where does this sudden talk come from?" he wanted to know. "Why would I ask you to leave?" For a long moment, the raven-haired man remained silent, as if willing his partner to get to the conclusion himself. Finally Loki sneered to himself, turning slightly away from Tony. His eyes were as hard and unrelenting as gemstones. An unreadable mask safely placed over his emotions. "You are not in the mood for the spoils of the flesh. So instead of inviting me to tag along on your scientific excess or asking, if I would like a drink perhaps," Loki huffed indignantly, "You decided to just ignore me." _So that's where that comes from. Darling's feeling left out._

Without much thought, Tony reached out to encircle his boyfriend's slim waist with his arms, only for Loki to step out of his reach. "I would never send you away. I'm sorry, if it seemed as if I didn't want you here. It's just been such a long day. All those girls trying to drag me into something." Tony shook his head. "I honestly thought I have been obvious enough that you are the only one I want from now on…"

"Say that again," Loki rasped. Brown eyes blinked in confusion. _What? He wants me to repeat? But I – oh!_

"You are the only one I want from now on."

A green glow was all the warning the inventor got as his boyfriend magiced his chair closer to himself – and in the process the bed. Loki stood tall between Tony's spread knees, arms now safely tugged around the taller man's waist. Smouldering emerald clashed with questing brown. "I never hoped to hear those words from anyone." Loki's voice was barely above a whisper. "Never hoped anyone could care for a monster such as myself." Tony tilted his head to peer into the timidly lowered eyes. "You're not a monster. Whatever your father taught you – and believe me, I know some things about less than perfect fathers – it's wrong. Fundamentally wrong. You're," Tony paused briefly, trying to figure out how to put it in words, "You're a perfect mess. You're my mess. The other side of my coin so to speak."

Tinkling laughter ripped from Loki's lips. The most honest thing he had allowed Tony to hear so far. In a flurry of movements, the trickster straddled his boyfriend's lap, arms circled around Tony's neck and drawing him into a fierce kiss that was more clanking teeth and bitten lips than anything else.

Tony tilted his head back, panting for breath while Loki continued to bite along the column of his neck. "You know," Tony gasped out, "I'm still not really in the mood for that." Loki hummed against his skin, soft strands tickling his chin. Slowly the raven worked his way to Tony's ear. "How would you feel about this then?" His voice changed mid-sentence from a low, seductive male voice to a slightly higher, husky female one. There were other changes Tony noticed. Loki lost some of his angles, gaining curves in, for females, necessary places. "Is this better?" Loki leaned slightly back, batting her lashes prettily at Tony, who could only stare. Not only had his boyfriend just turned into a young woman right atop of him, but his shirt couldn't quite hold her assets anymore, meaning it ripped in a very flattering manner right above her heaving chest. _He most likely did that on purpose_ , a small voice in the back of Tony's head helpfully delivered. _Loki is trying to seduce you, you know?_

 _No shit Sherlock_ , Tony shot right back at that voice and it disappeared to wherever it came from. Then a low moan dripped from his lips as Loki leaned back in to nibble at his pulse point. _And I'm not sure, if I really mind…_ A nimble tongue lapped at his earlobe, followed by questing teeth and suddenly Loki moved her hips in little circles. _Mh, nope. Don't mind that. Don't mind that at all._

"Now, now," Loki purred right into his ear, "What may that be?" She ground her hips down against Tony. "Urgh, just happy to see you, Lokes." The goddess giggled with delight, pressing her chest flush against Tony's. "And I am happy to have you, Anthony." Tony forced his eyes to open. When had he closed them anyway? Loki met his gaze with an amused expression albeit cheeks enflamed with passion. "We both know what and how you want it, Loki. So quit playing coy," he told her as firmly as he could with her still on his lap. The dark beauty grinned broadly. Without further ado, she hopped off Tony's lap, twirling in front of him before turning back into her male form. His green pools still glazed with lust as he straightened his back. Loki lowered his chin slighty, voice dropping another octave: "Kneel. Kneel before me."

As always, Tony felt compelled to defy this living image of whatever his classmates thought Loki was: A ruthless, power-hungry madman and always bent on getting what he wanted. _Not that he isn't, just not the way they'd expect him to be._

"I said kneel!" Loki narrowed his eyes and suddenly Tony found himself restrained by magic bonds before his boyfriend's feet. The trickster hooked a hand softly around the brunet's jaw, tilting his head up towards him. "Is this not simpler? Hm? Anthony." There was no way he could answer his boyfriend like that. If for Loki the feeling of being in charge was what did the trick, then looking up at the dark beauty that he had gotten himself involved with, surely did it for Tony. His pants were uncomfortably tight by now. Tony swallowed thickly: "You're so fucking beautiful." A grin stretched the magician's thin lips. "Flattery will not make me go any easier on you."

"I'll hold you to that."

Loki leaned down, ignoring Tony's parted lips, the invitation for another smouldering kiss. Instead his teeth found the juncture where neck and throat met – and bit him. Tony cried out in both pain and lust. You could say a lot of things about Tony Stark, but him being close-minded when it came to sex was not among his flaws.

Loki pressed the flat of his tongue against the tender skin, sucking as if his boyfriend was not writhing under his ministrations. "Undress, then up on the bed," Loki growled in the inventor's ear when he was satisfied with the hickey he had left on Tony's neck. It would be impossible to cover it up with clothes and maybe even too dark for make-up. Everyone would see, whom the ex-playboy belonged to. No more misunderstandings with their female classmates. And that was how it was supposed to be.

Tony scrambled to his feet, simply focusing on the task at hand. First, he slowly pulled his shirt over his head, revealing inch after inch of his abdomen. Even, if the brunet spent most of his time in the workshops, he still took the time to work out. Loki's approving hum at the reveal of defined abs was enough to make Tony flush with pride. "My eyes are up here, you know?" the brunet gave a cocky grin. Loki merely gave a sound of understanding, still focused on the revealed expanse of his boyfriend's chest. Tony surely wouldn't object. He liked flouncing his body in public – and being appreciated for what he could offer…

"Stop," Loki ordered, his eyes still glued to the revealed skin. Tony obeyed, pausing in his fight with the button of his trousers. "How did I ever get something this pretty into my bed," the trickster traced his fingers along the rippling muscles on his boyfriend's abdomen. "I-I think you very much asked for it, Silvertongue," Tony gasped. "We were arguing over that science project. Tension broke and suddenly we were in my bed all over each other."

Loki laughed: "I? I asked for it? If I remember correctly, you were very much begging for it once I got started on you. It is an unspoken truth, Anthony. You were made to be ruled. By me." Long fingers traced over the outline of Tony's arousal through his pants. Groaning, Tony tipped his head back, allowing for a lowly chuckling Loki to leave another love bite at his collarbone, running his hands through unruly black locks. "So willing," Loki purred as his lips left feather light kisses all over Tony's torso, gaining more moans and pretty mewls. "And all mine."

Tony cried out as a warm mouth closed around his right nipple. His hands tugged at Loki's hair, but he didn't seem to mind. "Damn. Loki!"

"Good boy. Say my name," Loki purred against his boyfriend's heated skin. "Loki," Tony repeated without consciously having to think about it. He was rewarded with a hum that sent vibrations right to his groin. Helplessly Tony bucked against Loki's skilled fingers gliding over him in languid strokes – only for the same fingers to suddenly leave his body. With a whimper, Tony tried to get back Loki's touch, but the raven-haired man only chuckled darkly. "Continue," he told Tony simply.

Tony levelled his boyfriend with the best glare he could muster, still panting and flushed as he was. But Loki merely raised an eyebrow at him in question. "Something the matter, Anthony?" _You know fucking well, what the matter is, Reindeer Games!_ But Tony bit his tongue to avoid the words from spilling over his lips. Playing with Loki normally was all fun and games, but not when he was like this. Not, when he slipped into the role of Loki, Prince of Asgard and Ruler over Mankind. So, after forcing his hands to stop shaking, Tony returned to unbuttoning his pants under the ever-watchful gaze of his boyfriend.

A sigh of relief rushed past his lips as soon as the constricting fabric of his trousers fell away. Only in boxers his arousal was that much more obvious, straining against the last barrier between him and whatever Loki would dish out today. Loki licked his lips. _Get on the bed,_ echoed Loki's instruction in his head. So like the obedient boy he normally wasn't, Tony crawled onto his bed. Not without a little show of course. As if by chance, his boxers slipped slightly as he placed his knee on the edge of the mattress, revealing the top of his round buttocks. It earned him a soft moan from behind him. Tony wriggled his rear a bit as he placed the second knee up as well, swaying his behind right in Loki's direction.

"Up to the centre," Loki instructed as if reading Tony's thoughts of just plopping down right there and seducing his significant other to come to bed as well. However, with the instruction, Tony moved to the centre of the bed.

Once there, Tony twisted around to lie on his side, watching his boyfriend through half-lidded eyes. Loki looked to be short of foregoing any role-play and just pouncing. "So?" He let his right hand travel over the expanse of his chest. Breathy sounds escaped his parted lips as Tony tweaked his nipples between his fingers for a moment. Then he let his hand travel towards his underwear, already a wet spot forming. "Now you have me." His fingers dipped below the waistband, letting the boxers slip down a little bit further. Loki watched his progress with hungry eyes, still as a statue at the end of the bed. "What are you going to do to me, Prince Loki?" The title rolled off his lips in a sensual purr – and Loki pounced.

With the restrain of a dancer in mid-turn, Loki ripped Tony's hand from his boxers. Without even giving Tony a second to realise that, he lifted the brunet's hips off the bed, tugging the boxers down unceremoniously. On the way back, Loki allowed his lips to leave open-mouthed kisses and the occasional nibble along the inside of Tony's thighs. It drew lovely sounds from his boyfriend's throat. "Don't you dare touch yourself," Loki growled, when he came back up. "That is my job. Mine alone."

"Then you better get to it, princeling." The confidence was returning to Tony, his hips bucking up against his boyfriend's hand. "I'm getting the feeling you don't want it anymore."

"First things first," Loki merely replied. "Hands above your head." The brunet watched in anticipation as the trickster conjured a pair of leather bindings. Tony's breathing quickened, his cock twitching in Loki's hand. Whenever these came into play, Tony was in for a wild ride. A ride that left him satisfied and drained – and more often than not, unable to walk straight. Or at least as straight as curly fries… Loki felt his reaction, saw his eyes darken with lust and grinned darkly.

Carefully Loki fastened the first cuff around Tony's right wrist. Then, leaning unnecessarily close until their chests touched, he looped it around the bed frame. The click of the second cuff around Tony's left wrist accompanied by: "In the end, you will always kneel." Tony moaned, wanting nothing more than for Loki to touch him, make him scream his name until the whole world knew, whom he belonged to. As if sensing his thoughts, the trickster wrapped his hand tightly around Tony's leaking arousal, giving it a few experimental tugs. It tore wanton mewls and moans from Tony's throat as well. He was shameless now that he knew he was going to get what he wanted – until suddenly Loki ceased his movements.

Desperately, Tony bucked his hips, whimpering and seeking to regain the friction. "Nu-uh," Loki tutted at him. "You still haven't learned your lesson. You still allow all those girls to rub themselves all over you." Tony whined again as Loki's fingers closed vice-like around him. "I am not going to stand by and watch that go on any longer."

"They don't mean anything," Tony cried. "You're the only one, Loki!"

Tony's desperation reached new level upon feeling Loki retreat from his frame entirely, the bed creaking as the taller man stood back up. "You are going to stay like this, Anthony. I am going to collect you tomorrow morning before school." Loki stared down at him with unreadable eyes. "Maybe you'll learn your lesson, Anthony."

"No, Loki, no! Please, I need… I need to – your touch. You…"

Loki chuckled darkly. "But Anthony, do you not remember? You are not in the mood for it right now."

And with the cry of frustration still echoing in his ears, Loki, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, left his boyfriend high and dry cuffed to his own bed.


	2. Black Swan (T)

**CHAPTER 2 Black Swan**

So… University got in the way… Sorry 'bout that…

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong entirely to MARVEL.

Pairing: Peggy & Natasha

Rating: T

Have fun ^^

* * *

Peggy turned the corner of the street with a small huff as she almost ran into another person. _I refuse to be late. Not when we're having seats in the box. Tony, why are you not answering my texts?_

She pulled out her phone to check once again, if she had not only turned her phone on, but had the volume turned as high as possible. Everything was as it should be. Only one thing. There was nothing. Not a single letter sent to her. The woman gave a light growl of frustration - that turned into a yelp as she ran straight into another body. As ungraceful as it could get, the woman landed on her bottom, purse slipping from her fingers.

"Oh dear, oh no!" exclaimed another voice close by. "I am so sorry ma'am, I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you alright?" Peggy looked up to find a young woman standing opposite her on the pavement. Her dark red hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back and startling green eyes stared back at her, widened with worry.

 _Pretty_ , Peggy's brain delivered helpfully. "Don't worry," she said aloud. "It's nothing. Not even a scratch."

"But your dress, oh ma'am, I'm so sorry, please allow me to pay for the cleaning." The redhead looked downright miserable at the torn skirt of Peggy's red dress and dirtied knees. Peggy shook her head. "Don't worry, it's only a bit of dust and I can handle a torn skirt myself." She took the hand the young woman offered to get back to her feet. "I'm so sorry. Normally I'm not that clumsy," the redhead rambled on, picking up their purses. Their identical purses. "But I'm late to pick up my godson from ballet and I really should have looked where I went, but this strap on my new purse keeps irritating me." She handed Peggy the other purse while showing her the problem with her own strap.

"You have a godson?" Peggy wondered out loud, accepting the purse. "You seem so young." The other woman blushed prettily. "Thank you, ma'am. I may look young but I am older than my looks suggest." Was that a sly smile Peggy detected in the corners of those cherry red lips?

"What's your name?" She found herself asking, making the redhead blink in surprise. "Natalia," the young woman finally replied. "Nice to meet you Natalia. I'm Peggy." They shook hands with a smile gracing their lips. "I was originally on my way to pick up my godson. We have tickets for the theatre, but apparently he's too busy working on his newest project and has completely forgotten about it." Natalia made a sad sound in the back of her throat, but said nothing else. She watched Peggy closely, as if looking for hidden injuries, which made Peggy laugh. "I really am fine," she told the other woman. "I promise." And she held out her pinky for Natalia to hook her own around and seal the promise. The redhead smiled shyly as she complied.

It was extremely adorable. And a small part of her brain told Peggy to just take the initiative. _No. Not is not the right time. You've just met her. Get your act together!_

„Well then," Peggy adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "I better not hold you back any longer. Your godson is waiting for you." Natalia nodded her head. They said their good-byes and parted ways.

* * *

"Tony?" Peggy shoved the door to his apartment open. "Tony, are you home?" She heard a rustling sound from his bedroom. The door was closed, which obviously indicated that her godson didn't want to be disturbed... _On the other hand, I did tell him I would drag him by the ears if I'd have to_ , Peggy thought. _So, invitation or not, I have warned him._

"Hello, Miss Carter," a voice purred behind her. With a little shriek, Peggy whirled around and came face to face with the smiling face of Loki, Tony's boyfriend. "Loki." She pressed a hand to her heart. "Don't scare me like that." His grin seemed to widen slightly before the young man caught himself. "I am sorry, my lady. It was never my intention to startle you," he told her sincerely. Even, if Peggy doubted that earnest immediately.

The woman straightened her back before the taller male. "I am here to pick up my godson. We're going to the theatre." Loki's green eyes ghosted to the door behind which his boyfriend stayed. "I am afraid that will not be possible, my lady." His eyes gleamed with the inner magic everyone seemed to find so frightening. Peggy merely heard a tinge of annoyance creep into her voice. "And why is that?"

"He has been rather," Loki pursed his lips slightly, "disobedient?" Peggy raised an eyebrow. She had no intention of learning what exactly those two were up to. "Disobedient," she repeated calmly. "So, you keep him tied up in there until tomorrow morning or until he cries for mercy and submits to you?" Loki blinked quickly, seemingly caught off guard for a second. Then another mask slipped over his features, giving him the reserved self-confident expression Peggy knew him to present. "Submitting?" Loki raised a single eyebrow questioningly. "My lady, I think I am above that."

"You know, we have theatre tickets for tonight," Peggy crossed her arms over her chest, levelling her godson's boyfriend with a no-nonsense stare. "And I would appreciate it, if I got to spent at least one evening per month with my godson." She narrowed her eyes slightly, lips drawn into a thin line. "Preferably without anything or anyone distracting him." The taller male gave her another unimpressed look. Then, he fixated his look on her dirtied skirt and the purse she held. "You ran into someone on the way here," he said matter-of-factly, "Are you even sure, this is your own purse?"

Peggy paused. _He does have a point. That pretty redhead did have the same purse as you_ , a voice in her head said thoughtfully.

 _Why would she exchange our purses?_ Peggy shot back with annoyance. _Then again, she was the one handing me the purse – and they were identical._

"Why do you think the purse isn't my own?" she asked Loki. He merely gave her a look in response. Apparently she should find out herself. With a sigh, Peggy opened her purse. The content was ordinary enough. Planner, a set of keys, a mobile phone and a wallet. Only problem? None of that was Peggy's.

"That little," she growled. Loki looked at her fuming form calmly, a hidden smile playing in the corners of his lips. Without saying a single word, Peggy left to get the landline phone. With pursed lips, she dialled the well-known number.

It didn't take long for someone to answer on the other end. A bored voice picked up: "Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division, Agent-"

"Connect me with Director Fury."

"I am sorry Miss, you are not-"

"Say that again," Peggy snarled threateningly. "This is Agent Margaret Carter, ex-director of SHILED, speaking. Now get me Director Fury." Satisfied to hear shuffling at the other end of the line, Peggy turned to look back at Loki with slightly narrowed eyes. _I wonder how much he hears from over there… Judging by his innocent expression probably enough. Tony always had a taste for exotic things._ The image of the pretty redhead floated into her head. It was the look she had had right after Natalia had handed over the purse.

"Yes," the gruff voice of Director Fury rang from the phone. "Nicholas," Peggy replied softly. She held no grudge against the man, so she tried to not let it show.

"Agent. How can I help you?"

"What was the name of the stray Agent Barton brought in? She was assigned to get information from me, right?"

Fury remained quiet for a few moments. Then, "Natalia Alianova Romanova or Natasha Romanoff. Depending on who you ask."

 _"What's your name?" Peggy wanted to know. The other woman blinked in surprise, obviously taken aback by the sudden change of topic. "Natalia," she finally replied. It seemed she had been looking for a more appropriate name but couldn't think of any._

Peggy narrowed her eyes slightly. "She's good," she mumbled to herself. A dark sound of confusion came from the director. "What did she do?"

"She switched out our purses after she staged a collision between us. Now I have neither my phone, calendar or theatre tickets for this evening." Peggy tilted her head to squeeze the phone between her shoulder and ear. "Swan Lake. And she played the swan on me." An incredulous laugh ripped from her lips that had Loki blinking at her in weary interest from the end of the hall. Even Fury seemed momentarily mute.

"Are you going to get her?"

"You bet I am," Peggy replied, already putting together a plan. "Thank you for the information, Nicholas. I'll report again tomorrow – or she will, depending on how this evening goes." A hum was her only response at first. Then: "Don't kill anybody just yet." Peggy chuckled lightly. "I didn't plan on it, Nicholas. You can trust me with the new recruit. We already planned that she would try and get to me. She merely outsmarted me in a situation I didn't expect. Nothing to worry about. Even better: Now we know she is capable of what Barton claimed." _A true chameleon._

Peggy hung up on the director without another word. Loki instantly turned away, trying to appear innocent. "You can keep Tony for the evening," Peggy declared as she marched up to him. "I already have a second for the theatre." The male blinked at her shortly, then the wicked glint returned to his eyes. "As my lady wishes."

"I wish for nothing but my godson's safety."

"I would never harm a hair on Anthony's body." And for once she instantly believed Loki. Peggy leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Take care of him, Loki." Then she slung the purse back over her shoulder and walked towards the door.

"You know," the brunette paused in front of the door. "If you're already here. Could you do me a little favour?" Loki met her gaze, green pools filled with suspicion. "Can your magic clean and mend my outfit?"

A startled laugh dripped from his lips – and the snap of a finger later, Peggy looked down at herself, clad in a ravishing red dress that reached down to her knees and emphasized her collar bones as well as her shining hazel eyes prettily.

"Oh," she cooed. "This is beautiful! Thank you Loki."

"You are my boyfriend's favourite relative after all," he merely replied, taking the next kiss from her obediently, closing the door quietly behind her leaving form.

* * *

The evening was mild and Peggy thanked Loki's foresight in choosing her dress. It really fit her purposes well. She had merely curled her chestnut brown locks and pinned back the left side to allow the dramatic effect of a wave tumbling down on the right. Purse held loosely at her side, she stood just outside the theatre, very obviously waiting.

"I'm so glad, you came," a female timidly admitted. Peggy turned around, smile already curving her painted lips. "And I hoped you would actually show up and not only steal my purse."

Natalia blushed and lowered her lashes. "It wasn't my intention to steal it from you. I just mistook it for mine – with the strap and all…" Peggy only listened with half an ear to the apology. Natalia had changed according to their new setting as well, as if she had been expecting Peggy to turn up alone. At least, if the white blouse peeking out from underneath a dark leather jacket and a knee-length red skirt were anything to go by. _Even if I had brought Tony with me, I'd feel very tempted to take her with me instead. Hm… Tony isn't with me either way, so… What is holding me back from taking this new agent with me to the theatre? Her job is gaining information from me after all._

"You know," Peggy simply spoke up, interrupting the still rambling Natalia. "My godson is unable to attend the performance with me this evening. If you don't have anything else on your schedule, I'd like to invite you to accompany me instead." She grinned. "After all, you do have the tickets." Her proposition only gained her an owlish blink from the agent. Natalia obviously had not thought to get such an easy opening for her inquiries, however she quickly reigned herself in. The smile that graced her lips was nothing short of sinful. "Well, to be honest, I was hoping you would allow me to come along," she confessed. Tentatively the younger woman stepped closer to Peggy. "Swan Lake is my absolute favourite ballet. The love and tragedy, disguises and magic," Natalia blinked up at the brunette through her lashes. Peggy returned the smile, enjoying Natalia's honest enthusiasm.

And thus, the two women entered the theatre.

* * *

On stage the black swan pirouetted her way into Prince Siegfried's heart, her black tutu glittering with the interwoven red and golden feathers. Peggy watched Natalia out of the corner of her eye, even if the young woman seemed completely engrossed in the happenings onstage. _She didn't lie. This really is her favourite ballet._ Peggy felt her lips twitch slightly. _Maybe she isn't the only one, who will gain some new information tonight._

"What is so funny?" Natalia wanted to know. "This is the most tragic part of it all." Her attention was still seemingly directed to the stage, Prince Siegfried now clearly enamoured with Odile. _Not as focused as she seems._

"It is," Peggy admitted freely. "Even more so, if you consider how close Odette got to getting her happy ending and only the blindness of Prince Siegfried – of all things – made it all into a tragedy." Peggy turned her head to look directly at Natalia. "Men simply are often less observant than women."

At that Natalia's head shot around. Surprise was written all over her face for all but a heartbeat, before another pleasant mask fell over her face. The women looked at each other, gazing deep into each other's eyes. "Do you mean to tell me," Natalia didn't finish her sentence, as Peggy merely nodded. "I find you quite attractive. Even, if I usually would prefer men." The redhead laughed lightly, trying not to disturb the other people in the audience. She leaned in closer towards Peggy. "You don't look so bad yourself, ma'am."

"I bet, we could get along really well, even if you showed me all of you. All of your pretty little secrets," Peggy purred sensually against Natalia's red lips. In an instant, she found herself faced with wide eyes, as the younger woman drew back. "What do you mean?" Peggy narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. _No need to hold back now. The recruit has to learn the rules sooner or later._

"You switched our purses on purpose. I hope you gained the information you needed."

Prince Siegfried swore his love to the black swan.

Natalia surged forward, pressing something sharp into Peggy's neck. Wherever that came from. "How do you know that?"

"Take that blade away from my neck and I'll tell you." Peggy stared up into the stone-cold eyes of the sweet woman she had thought to get to know. _She's a trained assassin. Chameleon-like. No wonder she never showed me her true colours. That would have been downright homicidal of her – and maybe I shouldn't have called her out like that…_

To her surprise, Natalia slowly moved the blade away from her flesh. Face still an unreadable mask, the younger woman sat back in her seat. Still, her blade remained clutched in her hand, ready to strike. "You were tasked with gaining information from me by a man called Nicholas Fury. Director of SHIELD," Peggy began. "Now, what he didn't tell you is, that I was director of SHIELD before him. I am used to working the machine, getting what I need." Deep in Natalia's eyes, Peggy found shock at what she revealed. "You played your role exceptionally well. I didn't even notice you swapped the purses before I looked into it at my godson's. You even got that information from me. You probably know by now that my godson is Tony Stark. Congratulations Agent Romanoff. You passed the entry test. Welcome at SHIELD."

Natalia, no, Natasha, stared back at the older woman in utter surprise. "What are you going to do with me now?" she wanted to know. Peggy brushed back a strand of hair and took her time to look what happened on stage, before she responded. Prince Siegfried was now declaring his undying love for Odette and apologizing profoundly for his betrayal. "We will watch the ballet until the end, then I am going to buy us dinner and we'll have a chat about this and that," Peggy suggested. "Let's see, where things are heading. I have a feeling, that we could become really good friends, Natasha."

The women watched each other for a moment, then Natasha seemed to relax a bit. "Okay," was all she said. _Going to find out, what exactly you got yourself into, huh?_ , Peggy smiled fondly at the other woman. "I was being honest by the way. I really think, we two could become good friends."

Natalia looked back at her, doubt clouding her eyes, even if hope simmered underneath it all. "I think so too."


	3. We know what we know (T)

**CHAPTER 3 We know what we know**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong entirely to MARVEL.

Pairing: Sif x Thor

Rating: T

Have fun ^^

* * *

The realm of Asgard was bathed in bright light. Every single building glittered with golden shimmer and thus heat up the air in the central streets. Only around the training grounds, hidden behind a wall of elder trees, the air was slightly cooler. Even, if not by much, since warriors still trained in the blazing sun.

Currently the grounds were reserved for the remaining prince of Asgard and his friends, the Warrior Three and Lady Sif. And while the three warriors fought with each other and honed their sword fighting, Lady Sif and Prince Thor were whirling around and between them in their sparring. Ever since Prince Loki had tried to usurp the Asgardian throne and had fallen from the Bifrøst in the aftermath – long story – Sif tried her best to cheer her prince up. Even more so since he couldn't visit his Midgardian sweetheart. Broken Bifrøst and all. Another long story.

Sif ducked under a swing from Fandral's foil Fimbuldraugr, evading effectively the counterattack of Hogun's mace aimed to throw Fandral off balance. "Sif," both her friends exclaimed, without stopping their relentless attacks on each other. The young woman merely laughed in delight at the rush of adrenaline. In battle, she felt the true freedom her parents had granted her by allowing her training as a shield maiden. _Even, if me becoming a true warrior was probably not in their initial interest_ , she thought to herself.

Skidding to a halt behind her friends, she looked back over her shoulder. Prince Thor must have stopped Mjølnir from raining down upon their friends as she had retreated into their fight. Retreated. Not fled. She had a plan after all. Winning.

"You will not find me where I no longer am, my Lady," a voice rumbled. Quicker than the eye could follow, Sif whirled around and parried his blow with her shield. A wild smile danced over her lips, dark hair billowing in the wind stirred by their movements. "You could have had me, my prince," she taunted. "Maybe, if you did not alert me to your presence." Thor returned the grin with his own broad one. "Now, where would be the fun in that?" Sif knew her dark eyes to dance with mirth. _It is so rare to see Thor smile these days. After what happened on Midgard…_

"Where indeed," they heard Volstagg mutter somewhere close by, already engrossed in a snack. "You should be training," Sif advised him playfully. "Else all your eating will prevent you from getting up. What a grand warrior that would make you." A grunt was the only response and frankly, the young warrior had no time to mull over it. She sprang forward, attacking Thor with her trusty sword. Teeth bared at his careless grin as he blocked every single of her blows, Sif worked her way closer towards him. It was dangerous. Getting close to him meant getting close to Mjølnir and although Thor would never hurt any of his friends, it was still advised to have some respect for the hammer. In her back, she heard the rhythmic clank of Fandral and Hogun's fight, more a matter of form than anything else. She and Thor were the only ones regularly training as if it were a real fight. The others only joined whenever they made a tournament out of it. _Something to prove their manliness in front of at least a few pretty maidens._

A harsh shove against her belly had Sif tumbling to the ground, sliding a few feet with the force of it. "You should focus, my Lady," Thor hollered with good-natured humour. Fighting often got him into a good mood. Sif tilted her head, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "This fight is boring me," she proclaimed, making her friends around her pause. "Were you not the one insisting that we needed to go out and train?" Fandral gave her a questioning look. "Why do we not spice this training up?" Sif leaned back on her hands, still sprawled in the dirt as if she wanted to be there. "It has been a long time since we fought in teams against each other, has it not?"

The Warrior Three exchanged glances. Thor on the other hand was already swinging Mjølnir lightly at his side, obviously enjoying her idea. "Yes," he called out. "Let us follow Lady Sif's idea. Hogun, you are with me. Fandral, join Lady Sif." He turned to the remaining warrior, still seated in the shade of a nearby tree. Normally they would be an even number, but ever since Loki –

Sif almost cursed herself for not thinking about it sooner. Thor's smile diminished in an instant, his hand wandering up to touch the strand of Loki's hair interwoven with his own golden mane. Even the breeches he wore were new and showing the horned helmet of his younger brother. Adopted brother, Sif kept correcting herself. Even if to them all it did not matter who or what Loki had been, only what the younger prince had done, for the man in question it had been a very clear distinction. That much Thor had been able to tell them before he had excused himself.

"You will be the judge of our little tournament, will you not?" She hurried to ask, trying to distract Thor from his surely sinister thoughts. Volstagg nodded his head once, eyes serious. "Well then," Fandral said a little too cheerfully. "Do you want to stay on the ground Sif, or would you prefer to start the battle from a standing position?" _He tries to lighten the mood…_

"I could beat you all without moving from the ground," Sif replied with the same exaggerated playfulness. "We would not doubt that for a second," Fandral grinned charmingly. "Still, for my own comfort, could you please stand up?" With a mumbled "If you insist," Sif hopped to her feet with the quiet of a large cat pouncing on her prey.

In an instant, her and the two warriors got into a fighting stance, measuring each other up. Only Thor remained straight as a rod, hammer hanging still at his side. "Come on Thor," Hogun said calmly. "Do you want the girls to win?"

"At least we have impeccable hair," Fandral threw right back. "You are only jealous that the barmaid did not even spare you a second glance after she laid eyes on me." Sif tuned their bickering out. As entertaining as it could be, Thor's stillness unnerved her more. _He could be either far away with Loki or the maiden on Midgard – or he could be playing us all._

She watched him closely, trying to figure out, which one was true. Only Thor did not allow for her to come to a clear conclusion. The expression on his face told her he was far away, yet there remained a distinct glow in his eyes that he usually only displayed when thoroughly entertained.

"Sif!" It was the only warning she got as Hogun used her distraction with Thor to his advantage to attack. Only her fast reflexes and Fandral's trusty foil slapping Hogun's hand off course spared her the embarrassment of being hit square in the face with his mace. "You should probably pay attention," Fandral told her in a suddenly rumbling voice. The young woman merely gave a grunt in response, focusing back on their opponents. While Hogun had started his sneak attack on her, Thor had seemingly decided to join the frame. Sif ducked out of the way of his fist, blocking Mjølnir with her shield and rolling out of the way. That was the kind of dance she had been waiting for.

* * *

Working on reflexes, muscle memory and quick decisions, the four warriors whirled around each other, looking for openings to strike and land a point. Before long they all were drenched in sweat, hair clinging to their foreheads. Sif breathed heavily, but still the smile would not leave her face. She was well aware that no bystander would be able to recognize her smile. Whenever they got to the point where each of them panted for breath – save for Thor somehow – she knew her dark hair was wild from the twirling to evade hits, her hazel eyes blazing with the joy of fighting and the smile, well, it mostly looked like a bearing of teeth. More a threat than a testament to the mirth the warrior felt.

"Enough," Volstagg suddenly called out. A few single clanks of metal on metal still echoed on the training grounds before the dust settled. "Warriors, you have proven yourself truly worthy of the title today," Volstagg announced with the appropriate amount of sincerity. "You have fought well. I have reached a conclusion." He paused for dramatic effects. "Hogun and Thor fought admirably." The two men began to cheer already. "But," Volstagg raised his voice, "Lady Sif and Fandral have shown what a fight as a pair means. Not only did they land more hits, they each defended the other against getting hit at the risk of getting in the way themselves. Which is why. The winners of today's tournament. Are Sif and Fandral. Congratulations!"

Fandral and Sif exchanged satisfied looks, still too out of breath to properly cheer. "We make a good team," Fandral finally said, clasping her shoulder. Sif returned his smirk with one of her own. "We sure do. Still, let us switch partners in the next tournament. To grant them a chance at winning." Fandral's laugh was drowned out by Thor's rumbling voice. "It was merely good luck that you won, my Lady. Do not think this will be a reoccurring outcome. Next time Hogun and I will show you how it is done."

"I cannot wait for it," Sif replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Hogun wiped the sweat from his brow and shook his head lightly. "Yes, next time. For now, I feel the immediate need for a bath and something to drink. Do you not?"

"Most certainly," Fandral said cheerfully. "And then I can tell you all about how to charm a fair maiden." Hogun grumbled something under his breath that Sif did not catch but that made Fandral laugh. Volstagg followed them wordlessly. Only Thor and Sif remained on the training grounds. Alone.

Under different circumstances – not so long ago to be honest – Sif would have very much welcomed such a situation to show Thor why she should be his equal in every aspect of live. Why he should choose her over anyone else. But things had changed. She had changed. As the years had passed and Thor had not shown any interest in her, Sif had stopped trying so openly, even if her treacherous heart had still done somersaults whenever they had been alone together. Even now.

 _No_ , she told herself firmly. _He has chosen. Even, if it is a Midgardian and their lives are short. Thor has chosen his companion and it is not I. He would do anything to see her again. I am in no place to interfere with that. It is my duty as his friend to support him._

"What do you say," Thor turned to look at his friend. "Do you still have energy left for a little hand to hand combat?" Sif shifted her stance, looking at him from a new angle. The childish, fun-hungry Thor had disappeared, leaving a weathered young prince behind, who would one day make a great king indeed. But that had not been his question at the moment. A smile tugged at her lips. "You know the answer."

They put their weapons away on opposite ends of the training grounds, remaining in their corners to gauge the other's reaction. Sif ducked slightly while Thor remained relatively straight, head cocked to the side. He was taunting her without words. Testing her restraint, her patience. Blue clashed with brown across the field, reading intentions and shifting through thoughts as it appeared. The two warrior friends surely knew each other long enough to do so.

Without warning, Sif sprang forward, racing across the field at Thor. "I am going to get you," their faces read. Wild smiles, dancing eyes, muscles taut and ready. She ducked the first swing of Thor's fist, tilting her head slightly to the side to avoid the second. Without giving it much thought, the warrior kicked out, hitting the prince in the back of his knees. Thor stumbled to his knees like a felled tree.

"That was not very nice Sif," he called out, which earned him a delighted laugh. "You might need to be quicker, if you want to catch me, your Majesty," Sif quipped.

"Do not request something you cannot handle."

* * *

Even if they had only finished a tiring training, neither Asgardian slowed their movements. In a flurry, they tried to pin each other down. Sif mostly escaping due to her slight built and flexibility in movements, whereas Thor was heavier than her but also less agile. _I have to get him by surprise_ , Sif thought, skipping out of the prince's reach to avoid being knocked over the head. _Hm… Maybe one of those Midgardian techniques might work?_

She felt a fist close around the tips of her long hair and tug. With a cry of pain, Sif twisted out of Thor's hold. Like an angered lioness, the warrior crouched low to the ground, hair falling around her face like a curtain, hands slightly outstretched before her, keeping her weight evenly distributed to spring forward at any time. "That hurt," Sif growled. Thor met her dark gaze with a bright smile contrasting the light dancing in his eyes. "Maybe you should tie it back so it does not get in the way," he suggested.

And while he was busy brushing a hand through his own tied-back golden locks – a reflex Sif had noticed whenever the prince talked about his hair – the warrior charged. With the speed of an approaching train she jumped right into Thor's arms, knocking him off his feet. An 'oof' forced itself from Thor's lips as they hit the ground, Sif atop the prince. Seeing the chance to, she leaned down to his ear. "We both know you like my hair unbound. Just like me," the young woman practically purred, before pushing herself off her friend and bounding away across the training grounds. _Why did I do that?_ , she screamed in her head. _That was blatant flirting! He has a companion. Even, if she is not in Asgard at the moment._

On the other side, Thor got to his feet. He dusted off his clothes slightly. "So you think, I like your hair unbound?" he lifted his eyes without moving his head. Suddenly the resemblance between him and Loki was back. The same teasing expression in their eyes, an almost sinister grin stretching across his handsome face. Sif reflexively bent her knees and shifted her weight to the balls of her feet to be able to evade attacks as quickly as possible. Thor's grin widened. "Do you know, what one can do with unbound hair such as yours, Sif?"

She stood no chance. One second Thor stood on the other side of the field, the next he was right before her. His right hand tangled itself in Sif's dark tresses, pulling her head back until her throat was bared. "This," he whispered close over her skin before his teeth found her pulse point. To her own embarrassment, Sif registered that the whimper came from her own throat, needy little pants falling from her lips like a sweet prayer as Thor bit and licked her throat, jaw line but never where she wanted him to kiss her most.

Coherent thought definitely left her once Thor did devour her lips. It had nothing of the gentle touch Haldor had had nor the finesse of some other nameless men she had kissed in her life. No. Thor's kiss was pure hunger. Hunger, desire – and something bittersweet, whenever he bit her lower lip. It could be grief. They were both grieving for Loki, no matter how twisted he had been – and of course for the pathway to Midgard.

With a gasp, Sif freed her mouth from the hungry attack. Thor did not let that disturb him, going back to mapping out her neck with his teeth and tongue. "Maybe we should stop," Sif forced out between pants and gasps. Thor only gave a grunt, gone in the moment. Writhing under his touch, Sif freed her head enough so she could look her friend in the face. His blue pools were darkened, hair covered in dust and sweat. Never had Sif seen anything more beautiful. Still.

"Are you sure?" She had to ask, even if it broke her heart. "Nobody needs to know," Thor rasped. He leaned forward again, brushing his lips against her earlobe, hands expectedly unfastening the straps of her armour. Sif put her hands on his. She waited patiently until he looked her in the eyes instead of at her lips or lower. "We would know," the warrior calmly said. "Could you look at her again, knowing-" The sudden guilt flooding Thor's eyes caused her not to finish her sentence. She simply could not bring herself to.

It was, as if Thor came back from another plane of existence entirely. He stared at his hands, still clenching and unclenching around clasps of her armour, the top part already half undone. Sif's neck, she was sure of it, covered in bite marks, his teeth clearly laying claim to her fair skin. And lastly her eyes. Full of understanding, hurt and fear. Fear, that somehow their friendship would be broken after this. That, this short moment of weakness had broken something between them.

Sif wanted to cry out, pull him back against her, anything but let him go, as the prince drew back. "I am sorry," Thor looked to the ground. _There it is again. That sadness as if someone killed his favourite horse._ Sif instantly scolded herself for her thoughts. Of course the prince would look that way. His brother had died and his lover was in a completely different realm with no way of accessing it, for Odin's sake!

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Sif simply replied, refastening her armour. "It was a moment of weakness in a time of need." She folded her arms in front of her body. "I should not have tempted you. It is I, who should be apologizing."

"You are like a sister to me and yet I cannot seem to consider your feelings." Thor raked a hand through his hair, oblivious to the wince Sif tried to suppress. _A sister. Yes. That's what I am to him. A sister in arms and in the aftermath. A sister. Nothing less and nothing more._

"I am honoured to be considered such," she replied quietly, tipping her head ever so slightly. Thor stalked up and down in front of her like a caged animal. "It is wicked. As if with his last breath he placed a curse on me. To remember. And remember. Whenever I close my eyes all I see is he falling to his demise. He or you or the Warrior Three. And if I do not dream of a fall, all I can see, is her face." Sif felt a pang in her chest at the mere thought of all the hurt her friend must be feeling. Even, if it was over the loss of another woman. _If only she were lost_ , a small, jealous part of her mind grumbled. _At least then he would someday get over her and could move on._

She shut the voice down, barring the door to such foolish thoughts. "I am sure, she is awaiting your return with as much feverish excitement as you are," the young woman told him flatly. _Or else I am going to deal with her personally._

Thor looked up at her with suddenly brighter face. "You are a good friend, Sif. You are wise beyond our years. I shall welcome your sword and council at any time, my Lady." She could not help herself but smile. Even, if her friend did not return her affection in the way she wished he would, at least he valued her as a trusted friend and advisor.

"I shall be happy to aid you in any way I can, my prince."

Thor reach out and Sif reacted, they clasped each other's forearms, sealing the bond she knew all too well would not last for long. His love for Midgard, for his companion was too strong. She may be his advisor, but the warrior held no illusions about anything else. She would always be second best to that one. _Most likely even in death._

Thor, of course, did not notice the inner turmoil of his friend. Hanging after his own thoughts, he clasped her shoulder once, called Mjølnir and left the training grounds. Sif watched him fly away. It was not hard to guess where to the prince and heir to the throne was headed. After all, Heimdal's was his favourite spot during the night.

The young woman lowered her head, hair obscuring her face from view.

 _"We both know you like my hair unbound."_

Her own words echoed in her head. Mocking her. "Even if," she mumbled more to herself than the empty field around her. "He would never act upon it. I would not allow him to. Not as long as there is even the slightest chance of her returning to him."

With that, Lady Sif picked up her sword and shield, straightened her clothes for the last time and went back towards the palace.


	4. Home (K)

**CHAPTER 4 Home**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong entirely to MARVEL.

Pairing: Wanda & Clint

Rating: K

Have fun ^^

* * *

Wanda brushed through her long tresses with nervous fingers. _This isn't working. Why do I suddenly have so much trouble with using my powers controlled?!_ With a sigh, the young woman pushed her powers outward, trying to focus them on the block of lead three paces before her. "Come on," she growled to herself. Blue-grey eyes narrowed in concentration, well, in a glare at the not cooperating block to be honest. A red hue encompassed the block like a soft crackling campfire. Slowly, ever so slowly, the heavy block lifted up into the air. "Yes," Wanda murmured encouragingly at it. "Come on, be a good little-"

The block fell to the ground with a loud thud. For a second, Wanda stared at it with blank eyes, hands still raised and energy crackling in the air. Then a string of curses in Sokovian fell from her lips in rapid succession.

"Wow, do you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?" Someone drawled from the window. Without thinking, Wanda whirled around, the lead block suddenly flying as if it was as light as a feather. Only her quick instincts prevented the visitor from being smashed in the face with the heavy object.

Clint tapped lightly against the block before him, watching as it fell to the ground as suddenly as it had gained flight. "I could have hit you," Wanda exclaimed, her accent thicker than before. The archer merely tilted his head as he got down from the windowsill in which he had perched before. "Guess I should've knocked then." His crooked grin only irritated Wanda further. _He could be dead, had I hit him in the head with that thing. Knocked him out of the window at least._

Clint rounded the lead block as if it was nothing more than a little oddly placed decoration. He didn't look too concerned with anything he was surrounded by. Neither Black Widow's ballet bars, nor various bench-pressing equipment, Steve's punch bag as well as several gymnastics mats. All in all, it looked like a mix of a fitness studio and camp for aspiring gymnasts.

"They moved my targets." Clint furrowed his brows in discontent. "Steve thought it would be better to have them hanging up on the wall so I can practice my accuracy in telekinesis." Wanda stepped up next to the archer. "Not that I am particularly skilled at it." _Or anything, if I'm being honest._ She narrowed her eyes at the round targets as if they were to blame for her failure at controlling the lead block. Without saying a single word, Clint pulled his bow, three arrows and fired them at the high hanging targets.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Each struck the middle of one target with uncanny precision. Wanda stared at him, her mouth slightly ajar. Then she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, turning towards the archer. "Show-off."

"Yeah," Clint shrugged his shoulders, "But do you know, how I got this good?" He made a pause. For effect, Wanda assumed. Clint tended to do many things 'because effect'. "Practice," he continued, spreading his arms slightly. The young woman groaned. _He can't be serious…_

Like a small child, that had just been told not to eat its favourite candy, Clint huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. _Even if he is technically my senior by almost twenty years, sometimes Clint really does not let it on._ A fond smile spread over Wanda's features.

"Would you mind letting me finish?" Clint stashed his bow back behind his back, not even waiting for Wanda to give him any sign she was listening. "If not for practice, I would be just a guy with a lot of arrows. I am not as super as the rest of the team, but I earned my spot. By training hard and never missing my target." A suddenly very sharp look landed on her. "Don't get me wrong. Training is super important. Just not all the time." Clint raked a hand through his short hair. "I came to get you."

Wanda blinked in confusion. "Get me?" On instinct, her powers reached out to read Clint's thoughts, even, if she knew how he thought about the whole mind control thing.

 _'I think the barn could use a makeover. Maybe some hens for eggs? Yeah. Gonna name them after the team? Huh, no, neither Tony nor Hulk make for good chicken… Thor would be great though – Whoops, shouldn't have eaten those dog treats I s'ppose-'_

The young woman quickly tuned out of his thoughts again. _I don't really want to know what happened with the dog treats…_ A slight shudder shook her form. To cover it up at least partially, Wanda pushed a strand of her long auburn hair behind her ear. "Uhm," she cleared her throat, "Where exactly did you want to take me?" Clint gave her a sudden broad grin, completely unlike anything seen during battle. As if by magic a single arrow found its way into his hands and the archer whirled it around between his fingers. "Secret," he told her with another grin.

Normally Wanda would have been at least suspicious at these declarations. Too often these 'surprises' had been negative for her. Only – Clint didn't strike her as untrustworthy. On the contrary. She liked the quirky archer, who seemed to have kind of adopted her? So, her only response to Clint's antics was a calm nod as she followed him out the door of the gym, leaving her disobedient lead block where it was.

* * *

The drive out into the secluded countryside was relatively quiet. Clint and Wanda didn't feel a need to speak to one another; content with knowing the other was near.

Through the trees, Wanda could slowly make out a house. She glanced at the archer from the corner of her eye. _And here I thought he was joking when he thought about this barn and chicken. No, apparently Hawkeye, Golden Archer, seems to have a secret farmhouse._

"Not what you expected, huh?" Clint said without turning his head to look at her. "But don't worry, it's bigger on the inside. And safe." Wanda's head whipped around so fast her neck hurt. Eyes wide she stared at Clint. She couldn't believe her ears. "How I knew?" Clint replied to her unspoken question. "Well, you train almost the whole day long. Given your past," he stopped himself from completing the sentence, instead going for, "Am I right to assume that you need a safe place to stay? A family?"

Wanda kept staring at the archer with a shocked expression. _It seems he doesn't even need to be reading your thoughts. He knows them either way_ , a voice in her head mumbled. "Mind control might not be my favourite free time activity," Clint began upon noticing her incredulous look, "But I do know a thing or two." There it was again. That lopsided grin of his. That boyish grin that made him look so much younger than he really was.

Meanwhile, the house had drawn closer. Appearing from the trees surrounding it in a wide circle. A red barn was close by, a tractor parked in front of it. The white fence surrounding the propriety had seen better days. _This looks so … homely._ Wanda blinked at the scenery in front of her. _This is unlike anything I have ever seen before._

The door on her side opened and she flinched back out of instinct. Clint stepped back with a soft look on his face. "Welcome to the farm." He extended his arm towards the house. The young woman slowly looked between his face and the pretty house. She couldn't quite believe that he would invite her of all people into his home. _I tried to play his friends. Fought against them even. And yet…_

"Clint? Is that you?" a female voice called from the house. Both Clint and Wanda turned around to see a woman standing on the porch, her long dark brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her whole face lit up at seeing the archer. Even Clint seemed to visibly relax and put down his guards upon seeing her. His wife. Wanda knew it instantly to be true. Her powers sensed other people inside the house, most likely all family members. She really didn't want to interfere with anything.

As if he noticed her flight before even she realised it, Clint put a hand on her elbow and gently nudged the young woman forward. He either ignored or didn't notice her wince. "I brought someone over. She's staying for dinner." The woman on the porch raked her eyes quickly over Wanda, smile still in place. "Come on in then," she said with a wave of her hand.

"Does she know, who I am?" Wanda whispered as they walked into the house. "Most likely," Clint responded.

The woman was awaiting them in the open living room. She greeted Clint with a quick kiss before she turned her attention back to the newcomer. "Hi, I'm Laura," she introduced herself. "I'm Clint's wife. And you must be Wanda. Clint told me a lot about you."

 _Told her about me?_ Wanda's brain registered with shock. _Oh no, she must be really upset with me. This was a bad idea. What, if I accidentally break something?_ She looked around, instinctively looking for escape routes should something require her immediate retreat from the house.

The young woman nearly jumped out of her skin when an arm slung itself around her shoulders and pulled her against a warm body. "Oh dear, please don't be frightened by me. Clint has an affinity for bringing home strays." The voice close to her ear was comfortingly gentle, calming her nerves down. A mother's embrace. "You should have seen me when he first brought in Natasha. She was badly injured and so untrusting. But he kept insisting on keeping her here until she was healed. I have seen so much by now. Trust me, I hold no grudge against you for anything you think you have done."

A whimper fell from Wanda's lips as the older woman hugged her close. Before she had time to even register what she was doing, her arms wound around Laura, her face buried in the shoulder of the woman. Hot tears streamed from her eyes, wetting the fabric of Laura's shirt. Laura said nothing, stroking Wanda's hair with soothing fingers until the sobs slowly died down and the younger woman drew back on her own accord.

"Why would you allow me to stay here?" Wanda questioned, her voice thick with emotion. "I fought your husband and his friends."

"He sees something in you that made him want to take care of you," Laura replied. "You are, after all, only a kid. Beneath all those crazy powers." Wanda slightly crinkled her nose: "I am older than I look." Laura laughed, the most pleasant sound Wanda had heard in weeks. "Of course," the older woman smiled at her fondly, "Would you like to help me prepare dinner? Clint already made himself scarce."

Wanda looked around, noticing that the archer had indeed disappeared. "He's either with the kids or hunting for his newest project. Clint is determined to turn the dining room into a workspace for me. He always finds something to build around the house whenever he's here." Laura rolled her eyes. Then she motioned for Wanda to follow her into the adjoining kitchen.

* * *

Preparing dinner at the Barton household was a louder and wilder affair than Wanda was used to. When it had been just her brother and her she had usually done the cooking, not trusting her hothead of a brother near anything hot. Then with HYDRA someone else had taken care of their meals. Most of the time at least.

Now, she was helping Laura chop vegetables, listening to the children and Clint chatting about everything and anything. Laura mostly listened, only interfering here and there to avoid conflicts to erupt.

 _It's – it's really peaceful,_ Wanda thought. _Not in any literal sense, but they are all so calm and loving with one another. It does remind me of before…_ A surprised little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She had not expected to feel at home this quickly anywhere. _And to think only this morning I was staring down a lead block all on my own…_

"Could you pass me the salt please?" Laura asked from the hearth a few feet away. "Of course," Wanda replied. Suddenly the kitchen was very quiet. Not even the children uttered a single word. Strange.

Wanda looked up to see what was wrong.

The saltshaker hung in the air beside Laura's elbow. Everyone was staring at it. Wanda hadn't even noticed using her powers. Panic rose. _Oh no, I did it again! Why can't I control my powers better? I didn't even notice I used them! And in front of everyone too!_

Wanda quickly drew her powers back and only Laura's reflexes prevented the shaker from hitting the floor. The older woman looked back at Wanda calmly, still showing a small encouraging smile. _She must be terrified for her family._

"That's so cool," Lila, the younger sibling, spoke up. "Can you make anything else float?" Her eyes sparkled with joy at the newfound ability of their houseguest. Her mother shot the girl a warning look while Clint kept his gaze fixed on Wanda. "Uh," the addressed stammered. The English language seemed to leave her, not a single word coming to mind. Until, just as unprepared, a voice flooded her mind.

 _'Deep breaths. Just breathe Wanda. You can do it, I know it. It's just a simple question.'_

Her eyes sought out Clint, who made a point of looking directly at her, as if knowing her powers would latch on to him if only he thought loud enough. Sending him a silent thank you, the young woman focused back on the girl, who still waited for an answer.

"I can make other things float too," she cleared her throat to maybe get rid of her thick accent, "But it takes a lot of concentration. I'm not that good at it."

"Then you need to practice it! This is awesome!" Lila clapped her hands in excitement. Even her brother looked interested in the abilities, even if his focus lay on the half-cooked dinner otherwise. Lila however had found her new favourite topic. "Daddy, daddy," she tugged on Clint's arm, "Can you show her how to never miss a target?" Before Clint could even begin to form a response, the girl whirled around towards Wanda again. "Daddy's the best archer to ever live. I have seen it myself."

"Honey, you are not supposed to be in the barn when your dad is practising," Laura scolded. "You know, that it's dangerous." Lila pouted. Instead now Cooper, her older brother, spoke up. "If you aren't perfect yet, you need to practise," he said with the earnest of a child. "Practise makes perfect. Dad says it all the time." Wanda smiled. _That does sound like something Clint would say. He even alluded to it not all to subtly today._

Clint leaned back in his chair, pleased grin on his face. "And of course I am right." He tilted his head slightly, ruffling his son's hair. "We have a saying where I come from," Wanda began, "If translated it would go something like this: No master has ever fallen from the heavens."

The Barton family regarded her thoughtfully. Especially the children seemed to mull her words over in their heads. "So, you're not from here?" Lila finally wanted to know. Wanda almost laughed. _And here I thought my accent would give it right away. She really is a cute girl._

Aloud she only said: "No, I am not from here. I came here from Sokovia. That's in Europe." This alone brought her a new wave of questions by the children, asking about her family, their traditions, their culture, the nature around them. Wanda answered as accurately as she could and as detailed as she thought appropriate for children. She didn't even notice Laura quietly finishing their dinner behind her back. Only once the older woman asked her family to help set the table did Wanda realise what had happened behind her.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I wasn't much help after all," she worried. Laura just gave her one of her warm smiles. "Don't worry, sweetheart," she said calmly. "I am used to making dinner all by myself. Besides, you did help me out a lot. The chopping really was the most exhausting part of preparations. And the kids really wanted to have their questions answered." Then, quieter for the children at the table not audible: "I am sorry, if they bothered you." Wanda was quick to shake her head. "Not in the least. It is good to remember the happy times I had at home."

Laura nodded her head and they sat down at the table as well.

* * *

A few hours – and lots of laughing over dinner – later, found Wanda and Clint curled up on the sofa in the living room. Laura was currently busy tucking in the siblings, with Lila constantly requesting for Wanda to sleep in her room for the night. "She really likes you," Clint grinned. "It seems so," Wanda replied, looking over her shoulder towards the stairs from which she could hear the arguing Lila. Clint followed her line of vision with his eyes. "Why don't you try to make her something so she will fall asleep?"

"It's not how it works," Wanda said. "I can't make things float through walls. I need to have the thing I'm trying to move in sight. Otherwise it would not work." She turned back to the archer, who studied her face closely. It was, as if he was trying to figure something out.

Laura came down the stairs, Lila in tow and a bundle of blankets in her arms. "Here, take him for a moment Clint." She placed the bundle in her husband's arms. "He's been fussing."

"Nathaniel's loud," Lila explained to Wanda in a stage whisper. "I can't sleep when he's crying next door." Wanda shifted her posture on the sofa to look directly at the girl. "But now you're good to go to bed?"

Lila swung around her arms, silly grin on her face. "No. I'm not tired at all," she explained. Clint looked up at his daughter. "It's late. Young birds should already be in their nests. Else they'll be tired tomorrow and will miss all the fun playing with Wanda." The young woman whirled around to look at the archer in slight shock. _He's going to allow his children to play with me? Is he serious?_

Her eyes sought out Laura, who merely looked between the three of them and smiled. "Why don't you let Wanda tuck you in then, darling," she suggested. "I'm sure she knows some great bedtime stories. And then you'll sleep really quick and before you know it, it'll be morning again."

The girl hopped up and down at this idea, practically dragging Wanda along with her to her room. "Mommy knows I know all her bedtime stories already. I'm old enough for some new ones." She climbed back into bed, tucking her blankets around her. Fluffy stuffed animals framed her head on the pillow. Wanda settled on the floor in front of the bed, hands sinking into the soft carpet. "What kind of bedtime stories does your mom tell you?"

"Only fairy tales," Lila replied, then in a pretend grown-up voice, "But I'm too old for fairy tales." Wanda brushed strands of her hair out of her face as she thought about what kind of bedtime story to tell. "Well, I know a fairy tale I enjoyed very much when I was your age. Do you want to hear it?"

Lila thought about it for a moment before eagerly nodding her head. And so, Wanda sat back on the carpet, waiting until the girl had made herself comfortable, before she began her tale in a quiet voice, her accent more prominent than while talking.

oo0oo

 _"Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom lived a woman, who had two daughters. One was as fair and tame as the white rose bushes in front of her house, the other as red and wild as the roses besides the first. The sisters loved each other dearly and did everything together._

 _"One day, the sisters were out in the woods surrounding the house collecting fire wood, when they heard a terrible sound. So they went to see what was happening. To their surprise they found a huge bear, which had wounded his front paws, lying on the ground. And being the nice girls they were, the sisters took the bear home with them to nurse him back to health. The bear had a crown upon his forehead, the sisters noted in the light of the fire. They made him a bed right in front of the fireplace and the bear thanked them for their help._

 _"The white sister was a bit more careful, but even she grew to like their bear very much over the following evenings, because you see, winter was coming, and the bear would return to their house for the evening even after his paws had healed. The red sister would open the door for him, her sister giving him some food and then the girls would play with their bear until it got too rough for him and he rumbled 'Let me live, dear children. Going to push your suitor over.' So, the sisters would settle down for the night, close to the warmth of their bear._

 _"Unfortunately, winter ended and the bear had to leave the sisters. He explained to them that he has to protect his treasures from a dwarf. However, upon leaving the house, the bear ripped his hide on a loose nail in the doorframe – and the white sister thought she saw something golden shimmer under his fur. But the bear left before she could ask him about it and soon the girl had forgotten about it. The sisters missed their bear dearly._

 _"One day they were out in the woods again to collect flowers and firewood, when they heard loud cursing. They looked around and found a wrinkly dwarf, whose beard was caught under a root. He tugged and tore at it, but the beard didn't come free. So the dwarf finally addressed the sisters. 'What are you looking at? Don't just stand there and stare! Help me!'_

 _"The sisters, wanted to help free the dwarf. Luckily the red sister had a pair of scissors in her basket. With these they cut off half of the beard. The dwarf was free. However, he didn't thank them. Instead he began to curse: 'You insolent girls! Cutting off my beard! My pretty beard! How dare you!'_

 _"The sisters were irritated by this and told the dwarf politely that they had only intended to free him and the only way had been to cut off part his beard. The dwarf only huffed and snapped at them before strutting off into the underbrush._

 _"A few days later their mother sent her daughters out to catch some fish at a nearby stream. So the sisters took their baskets and went. When they neared the stream, the sisters heard loud cursing. Curiously they rounded a bend and found the wrinkly dwarf, whose beard was caught in his fishing line. He tugged and tore at it, but the beard didn't come free. So the dwarf finally turned towards the sisters. 'What are you looking at? Don't just stand there and stare! Help me!'_

 _"The sisters, despite his impoliteness on their last encounter, wanted to help free the dwarf. Luckily the red sister had a pair of scissors for their own fishing line in her basket. With these they cut off half of the beard. The dwarf was free. However, he didn't thank them. Instead he began to curse: 'You insolent girls! Cutting off my beard! My pretty beard! How dare you!'_

 _"The sisters, again, remained polite, telling the dwarf it hadn't been their intention to cut the beard, only there had been no other option to free it. The dwarf huffed and puffed and disappeared from sight back into the woods._

 _"A few days later the sisters were playing in the woods on their own, when they stumbled upon the dwarf again. This time, he was standing in front of a huge mountain of treasures untold. When he saw the sisters, he grew furious with them. He screamed at them to never have come there, to disappear. He even moved as if to attack them – when suddenly a huge bear attacked the dwarf. As soon as the dwarf was dead, the bear returned to the girls. They noticed the crown upon his forehead and recognized the bear as their bear._

 _"Suddenly, the bear transformed into a beautiful prince. He explained that the dwarf had stolen part of his treasure, cursing him to wander the woods as a bear until he had regained all the missing pieces. He then took the sisters back to his kingdom, where the white sister married him and the red sister married his brother in a grand festival."_

 _oo0oo_

Wanda looked down at the sleeping face of Lila with a soft smile. In a quiet whisper, as to not disturb the girl, she added: "I was also present at the reception party, drank mead, it flowed down my chin but didn't get in my mouth."

As silent as a shadow the young woman got up from the carpet and left the children's room, closing the door behind her lightly. Wanda looked around in the silent corridor. Not a single door was open and no sound was coming from behind the doors. _I wonder, if they're already all in bed… Maybe I should check down in the living room? Even, if no one is around I can at least sleep on the sofa._

She tiptoed down the wooden stairs into the living room, trying to avoid any possibly creaking floorboards. When Wanda finally reached the room, she saw no one around. A single light was on, but apart from that everything was quiet. Wanda deflated slightly, drawing into herself. Sure, she hadn't expected the Barton's to stay up until she had tugged Lila in, it was late and their day had probably been long enough as it was. Especially with a baby on their hands.

"Do you plan to stand there forever or what?"

Wanda jumped a few feet into the air, her power reacting to her distress, wrapping her hands in a red glow. Clint's head appeared over the backrest of the sofa. He wore his usual crooked grin. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"You really should not make that a habit," Wanda sighed, rubbing a hand through her hair. "One of these days I might just kill you by accident." Clint only chuckled at her, as if he had heard that one before somewhere. Which he probably had considering his best friend was a master assassin. _Natasha most likely gave him a hard time right after he got her to SHIELD…_

"Hey, you okay?" Clint straightened his back, looking at her with concern. "I'm sorry, if I frightened you Wanda." She gulped down her surprise and shock at seeing the archer still up and about. "Shouldn't you be in bed with your wife and baby?" the young woman asked in a small voice. There was simply no way he would wait up for her. No sane explanation. But Clint only chuckled again at her. "Yeah. But I don't need all that much sleep. Comes with the job and training and all that. Besides, I thought you'd want to talk for a bit." He titled his head at Wanda questioningly.

 _He stayed up in case I wanted to talk. That's … nice._ The young woman decided to at least sit down with him; even if her brain did not deliver anything she wanted to talk to him about at the moment. So, Wanda rounded the sofa and sat down beside Clint on the soft cushions.

She had just sat down, when a dog tapped into the room straight towards them. It had golden fur and missed an eye. "Oh, Lucky. There you are." Clint grinned at the dog. "How was the fresh air, huh, buddy?" A low bark was his only response. It seemed as if the dog, Lucky, was aware that the rest of the house was already asleep and didn't want to wake his humans. He wandered towards the sofa, sniffing along Wanda's legs until his head rested in her lap, nose poking into her stomach.

Wanda obeyed the silent bidding and began scratching the dog behind his ears, relishing the happy sounds Lucky made. Clint watched the pair with a smile on his face. "You know," he said after a short pause, "Lucky doesn't come to everyone just like that. He likes you." The young woman looked down at the big brown eye of the dog on her lap. A smile spread over her lips, scratching harder behind his ears. _So, he trusts me? Lucky doesn't know me, but he still trusts me. Just like the rest of the family, he is nothing but sweet._

Clint stretched out a hand to rub at Wanda's shoulder, scooting closer on the couch. "We all like you," he said softly. "Lila adores you, Cooper is utterly fascinated by your abilities. I already talked it over with Laura. We agreed that should you ever need a family to lean on, somewhere safe to hide when everything out there is getting too tough, we'll be there."

There was a pause. An intake of breath. The two Avengers stared at one another. Later neither would be able to tell who had been the first to move. What mattered however was that suddenly Wanda was locked in a tight embrace with Clint, curling into him as if for protection.

"Thank you," Wanda mumbled into his chest. "Thank you so much."

"Ah, no biggie." Clint rubbed her back comfortingly with one hand, patting the sofa to allow Lucky up for once. The dog hopped onto the sofa, flopping down on the heap of humans. And for the first time in a long time, Wanda actually felt at home.


	5. Call me maybe (M)

**CHAPTER 5 Call me maybe**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong entirely to MARVEL.

Pairing: Tony & Steve

Rating: M

Have fun ^^

* * *

Tony stared at the phone sitting on his desk. The letter still lay next to it, seemingly glaring at him. "Tony Stank," the inventor muttered under his breath, brow creasing in disdain. Damn the postman for misreading his own goddamn name and damn Cap for scribbling almost unintelligible over the envelope. _He was in a hurry,_ part of his brain tried to console him. _After all, the officials hunt him like a common criminal. Which,_ that inner voice was kind enough to add, _is kind of your fault._

Tony tipped his head back with a groan. There was no way in hell he would allow himself to live that down – just as much as Rhodey tended to adopt the new nickname of "Stank" for him. If Barton had still been around and not in an underwater prison – an underwater prison Tony had known nothing about, just for the record! – the archer might have taken the nickname on as well. Barton found enjoyment in the odd things in life.

Tony's eyes focused back on the phone sitting on his desk. He had been over the whole ordeal several times in the past few days. Cap had obviously had the plan to free his friends. Maybe even already succeeded. Tony didn't keep close tabs on them anymore.

"Cap." He sighed, rubbed a hand down his face. "Everyone thinks you're so special. And yet you make the same mistakes as the rest of us. Or worse decisions, if you deem them right." Another groan left his lips at the thought of how much he lately mulled over his former comrade. With purpose that was only half reality, the inventor went over to his desk. _What would happen, if I just grabbed the phone and called him? Would he even answer? Would he have time for me? He is on the run after all…_

Something inside Tony shrivelled at the thought of Cap ignoring him after he had given him explicit permission to get in touch with him. The inventor shook himself and took a deep breath. "Only one way to find out."

* * *

Steve startled awake, when he heard the buzzing of the phone. Still slightly asleep due to the lack thereof in the past days, Steve rubbed at his eyes. If someone called him, it could only be one person. The one person that was somehow – aside from himself – the cause of their current separation as a team. Before the buzzing could wake any of his comrades, Steve crawled away from them with the phone clutched in his hand.

"Yes," he said upon answering the phone. There was an audible intake of breath. Then, "I didn't think, you'd actually respond, spangles."

"Well, I left a note, saying I would. And I always keep my promises."

A huff, as if the other tried to repress a laugh. "Are you free to speak?"

Steve looked around himself. Natasha was on watch duty, so she was most likely already aware of his phone call. Wanda was curled up tightly under her blanket, fatigued from the time in prison. Sam was still snoring away in the tent and Bucky – Steve felt his heart leaping in his chest at the mere thought of his best friend back among the living – was most likely trying to tune said snoring out to catch some sleep of his own or awakened upon the buzzing of the phone. There were at least two sets of ears trained upon him and his call.

"Yeah, I can speak freely," Steve said. "Is there a problem you need our help with, Tony?"

"No." A pause. "No, not really. I just wanted to hear your voice."

Steve furrowed his brows. That was new? Since when was Tony the type to become all cuddly with him? Or at least as cuddly as Tony Stark allowed himself to get over a phone.

As the pause grew longer, Tony began to grumble to himself. Something like "I hope he hasn't hung up on me, seriously." And if Steve was not completely mistaken, he could make out a slight panic laced in there as well.

"No, no, I'm still here," he hurried to assure the inventor. "Only surprised you'd call because you miss … me." It definitely felt strange to say that out loud. Especially in the middle of the forest, on the run from the government and with now three people listening in on his call. The snoring coming from the tent had ceased. _Maybe I should go a few paces the next time Tony calls_ , Steve thought to himself.

"Hard to believe, huh Blondie?" Tony huffed a nervous laugh on the other end of the line. Steve could almost see him in front of him. That awkward half grin; one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, almost messing up his hair in the process. A blink of chocolate brown though thick lashes.

Longing exploded in Steve's chest with such ferocity it made him gasp for air. "I missed you too," was all he could force out between the attempts to get his lungs working again. _Damn, Natasha is going to think Tony is trying to pressure me into something. Get your act together, Steve,_ he scolded himself.

"What are you up to, Cap?" Tony sounded mildly amused. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say, someone is giving you some."

Steve's cheeks heated up to a fiery red. Something he knew Tony would find rather funny. "W-Why would you say that?" Steve forced another gulp of air into his lungs. Somehow Tony always knew the buttons to push to either get him riled up or leave him blushing as red as a ripe cherry.

Tony's laugh echoed though the silence of the forest. It was a sound so happy, Steve couldn't help but smile along. "Now in all seriousness," the inventor began as he had calmed down some, "What got you so short for breath?"

 _Payback is sweet._ Steve's lips stretched into a lopsided grin. "You," he simply said. His reward was a short pause just barely noticeable, before Tony practically purred into his ear. "Had I known you felt like that, I would have made damn sure to end our little entendre with a bit more of a bang."

"Language," Steve said casually, ignoring the bugs crawling in his stomach. That earned him a growl. "Nerves," Tony rasped. "You've got 'em, Capsicle. Well played." Steve felt his chest swell with pride. The inventor had just complimented him on surprising him with a double-entendre. Which was a feat in itself, since Tony could make practically anything into a double-entendre. Anything. So to surprise him was a conquest Steve felt he needed to savour.

"Now, Tony, what did you want from me? I don't suppose you only called, because you missed me?"

"Am I not allowed to miss my favourite team of outcasts?"

Steve rolled his eyes at the mock hurt in Tony's voice. "Ey, don't roll your eyes, Cap. It might stick," Tony told him from the other end of the line. Steve needed to remind himself, because he could see Tony very lively before his mind's eye. "How did you-"

"I seem to know you better than you thought, Captain." There it was again. That insufferable smirk. Steve could hear, practically see it in front of him. Along with the challenging glint in Tony's eyes.

Steve took another slow breath. "Well, if you know me so well, what do you think, I'm wearing right now?" _Wait, what?_

"Oho," Tony drawled after a short pause, "Captain wants to play dirty. Fine by me. Now tell me, darling. What are you wearing? Enlighten me."

A shiver ran down the soldier's spine at the gruff sound of the inventor's voice. He could see – and hear – why women tended to throw themselves at Tony first chance they got. "Now, now Captain," Tony spoke up again. "It's not nice to let people wait. Describe it to me."

A huff and shuffle to turn away from possibly prying ears, Steve replied: "I'm wearing my uniform. What were you expecting?" A soft laugh was his only response. "Oh no, darling. I won't let you off that easy." Again, Steve could see Tony saunter towards him only to lean against a desk or convenient wall. Crossed arms, head tilted. He would wait there with a predatory gleam in his eyes and a slightly too wide smile on his lips. "You're out there somewhere. At night. That uniform of yours is not meant to be worn overnight. That much I can tell you for sure."

 _No need to be so smug about it,_ Steve grumbled in his head, but didn't dare to voice it for fear of Tony turning his voice even more alluring when scolding him. Another pleasant shiver raced down his spine.

"So, darling? What are you really wearing?"

"A pair of grey sweatpants." Steve mumbled it as lowly and directly into the phone as he could to avoid the rest of his team to have a fit of laughter. It was quite ridiculous after all: Captain America on the phone with Iron Man in what sounded like the beginning of a phone sex conversation.

Fittingly enough, the next words Tony now really purred where "Oh, naughty Captain." The inventor must have the time of his life, embarrassing his ex-friend turned enemy (kind of?). Steve honestly didn't know why he even answered those questions and hadn't just hung up on the inventor. The guy had to be drunk anyway. Otherwise Tony would never call him. Not after the fight they'd had. He was too proud for that.

"I'm wearing a pair of tight fitting jeans. You know, the ones in which you stared at my butt the most. And yes, I noticed. I think everyone noticed. And one of the shirts you left," Tony paused in his sensual description, "Don't even know why. It's too wide for me. But it smells of you and doesn't hinder my movements in the workshop. I suppose, I don't mind that."

Something reared its head in Steve's chest. Something that he couldn't quite put a name to, but something that was very pleased to hear the inventor was wearing something of his, even, if he wasn't sound. He must have groaned quietly for the next thing he heard from Tony was another low chuckle. "I knew you'd like that. You are quite possessive like that, Goldilocks."

"I'm not." Steve wrinkled his forehead. "And could you refrain from wearing my clothes to tinker on your oily inventions? I'll never get the stains out."

There was a short pause, a thump as if something had hit the phone – and then a rustle as if by fabric. When Tony picked the phone back up, Steve's cheeks had turned a completely unheard shade of red. "Okay. Now, I've removed the shirt as you wanted." The smug smirk was audible in Tony's voice. "Anything else, you'd like me to do?"

Steve tried to concentrate on anything else, but the image of Tony, shirtless and in those annoyingly tight pants of his… Bad enough, that he had worn one of Steve's shirts, but without the shirt? Now that was a sight Steve wanted to see for himself.

 _"Anything else, you'd like me to do?"_

Tony's voice echoed in his head. "I'd like for you to restrain yourself," Steve muttered in what he thought was a quiet voice. "Mh, kinky," the man on the other end of the line moaned. Apparently, that hadn't been quiet enough. Great.

"I meant you should watch what you're saying," Steve told him sternly. A low chuckle, followed by a "Yes, sir," were his only response. _Oh wonderful. Now Tony surely has the idea to do a little role-play over the phone._ Steve slapped his hand across his eyes. _A phone, I only sent him to get in touch in case of an emergency. Emergency!_

Boredom – as hard to believe as it might be for the inventor – was not an emergency.

"Now, sir, what would you like to have me do next?"

Steve felt a new tingle mixed into the annoyance of Tony's behaviour. Then, a new idea popped into his head. Tony was asking him to order him around over the phone. Fine. He could do that.

"Where are you now, Tony?"

"In my office," was the immediate reply. Steve thought he could make out a hint of nervousness in his voice. Could it be that Tony Stark was getting nervous? The soldier shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on it. Now was the time for action.

"Good," Steve praised. "Now I want you to take a seat in your chair. As you are."

"Am I allowed to close the door?"

"No. Leave it be. If it's locked it's locked, if not, then it's too late now."

There were steps on the other end, a creak of a chair. "I'm sitting," Tony finally announced. Steve took a deep breath, steeling his nerves for what was to come. He threw a look over his shoulder. There was no sound coming from his teammates. Nevertheless, he was absolutely sure they'd be watching him – or trying to eavesdrop. So, making as little noise as possible, Steve went further away from them. Just far enough to be out of earshot, but close enough to alert them with one call. Then he focused his attention back on the phone.

"Tell me, Tony, do you have any fantasies you'd like to see fulfilled?"

A quiet groan was the only answer he got. It was enough. A silent smile curled Steve's lips. "So responsive," he murmured into the phone. "Now tell me, Tony, which would you like to have fulfilled the most? Let me assist you."

If anyone asked him, the soldier would be unable to tell them what exactly made him ask Tony these questions. He'd only be able to tell them how divine it felt to have Tony Stark in the palm of his hands and to be able to tell him what exactly he should do. And by the way Tony responded he could tell the inventor felt the same.

"My, Rogers," Tony rasped, "I never thought you could be so commanding outside battle. That's really salacious."

"That's not an answer, Tony."

"Huh, yeah. You see, Cap, I always felt like it would be great to meet in an elevator, just play around where anyone could walk in on us, then go into my office and have you bend me over my desk. I have cable ties in the lowest drawer. You could tie me down and take me."

Steve groaned in the back of his throat. _That does sound like a very good idea. Though I doubt it's the whole truth._ "Tell me about it. What would you like for me to do exactly?" He could hear the man on the other end take a shuddering breath as if to sort out his thoughts. It was rare for Tony to have to think twice before he spoke, which caused another shudder to race down Steve's spine. _If he has to think about it, it's probably very filthy…_

Tony made another soft sound before he began. "I always imagined you'd come in, just in a bad mood because of something I did. We'd meet in the elevator up to my office. You'd use your Captain Voice on me – do you have any idea how hot that is? To hear you commanding people so effortlessly, and all those righteous speeches you give – anyway. You'd address me in your Captain Voice and it would make me so bothered. Of course you'd notice. You always notice when something's not the usual. And you'd tease me about it, Steve. But the ride in the elevator is short, so by the time we get to my office, you're plastered against my back as we stumble into my office."

By now, Steve was breathing heavily at the mental image Tony painted. Oh yes, that fantasy seemed very alluring indeed. He could almost taste Tony on his lips. "Eager, aren't we," he rumbled back at Tony, breathless. "So eager to get to blow off some steam."

"Only for you, Cap."

"You look so pretty. All tied up against your desk. Almost like a gift. Can you feel my fingers running up and down your sides? You're quivering under my touch. I can't take it any longer. You always make my resolve crack, Tony."

Tony moaned into Steve's ear, eyes closed, head thrown back. He was exactly where he wanted to be. If only he could reach for his Captain. "Please," Tony whined prettily. "Please don't leave me hanging here."

"Shh," Steve soothed. "I'm with you. I'm not going anywhere. Just relax, Tony. Do you feel my warm hands travelling up your naked skin as I pull you closer to me? You're loved, you're desired, Tony."

Another obscene moan came from the inventor and Steve was very glad he had moved away from camp. Else now his friends would definitely surround him, asking what was going on. Another thing Steve noticed was the now definitely visible bulge in his pants he could no longer ignore. Even, if it made him uncomfortable.

"Come on, Cap, touch me where it matters. I'm neither a virgin nor made of china. And not in China either, in case you were wondering." A low chuckle followed his quip. Then, another low groan. "Cap, I need you, please. See, I'm already bent over the desk for you. You tied me down so prettily; I love the feel of the cable ties cold against my skin. Just get it on with!"

"So very eager for me," Steve tried to hide the smile in his voice, "I love how responsive you are. And since you asked so nicely, I'm going to show no mercy on you. Tomorrow, you won't be able to walk straight or sit properly without being reminded of how I took you shamelessly against your desk. I'll have you begging for more before I'm even getting started. You will love every moment of this debauchery."

* * *

Tony shook his head. No. Cap would never say something like that. He was too posh for that. A bit too much of a prude. Not, that it was bad to be a prude, it just made messing with Steve that much more fun. _Still, he would never say something like that. Not even over the phone and away from his friends…_

The inventor let his eyes wander back to the phone again. It still lay untouched upon his desk. The letter beside it still unfolded with Cap's neat scrawl on display. Both untouched and both a reminded of the events a few months prior. Tony brushed a hand through his hair. "I should really call him," he said more to himself. "Set things right. Maybe, he'll see my point." And then, the image of Rhodey just dropping out of the sky came to the front of his mind. It was quickly followed by a certain overly excited youth, jumping off buildings as if it was nothing.

"Urgh," Tony scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration. He had done what he deemed right and Steve had done what he had thought right. It had separated them, yes, but in the end both of them were far too stubborn to give in to the other. So, for now, there was nothing he could do about the whole thing except keep his eyes and ears open for any kind of news. And with a last look at the letter, Tony shoved it into one of the drawers of his desk and put the phone into the pocket of his jacket. Maybe someday he'd be in the need to use it. Someday. Maybe.


	6. Firebird (T)

**CHAPTER 6 Firebird**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong entirely to MARVEL.

Pairing: Natasha x Bucky

Rating: T

Have fun ^^

* * *

Natasha loved winter. It was her favourite season. The trees were covered in soft pillows of white snow, it glittered everywhere and she could use thick winter's clothing to hide herself in when on a mission. And winter also was her best friend. Not the season of course. The person. One of her old instructors. The Winter Soldier. She had always looked out for him, hoping to find him again after their time in the Red Room.

And now he had indeed come back. And he remembered his time with her as well as his life as Bucky Barnes, which not only pleased Natasha, but his best friend Steve Rogers as well.

One thing the two of them had taken up once more was their training together. Even, if Bucky nowadays mostly skipped ballet. Natasha still enjoyed the sport once in a while and it helped her coordination and control over her body. Her favourite part was incorporating her fighting style into the ballet to create a deadly mix.

"How long are you planning to watch me?" Natasha wanted to know as she stopped after her double pirouette. The dark figure in the shadow of the doorframe slowly entered the room. A mop of dark hair almost concealed his face. Natasha felt a smile tug at her lips as she kept dancing for him and her alike.

Bucky paused at the edge of the room, looking around either for escape routes, places to hide or because he felt insecure. No one would ever know, but if Natasha had to guess, she would bet on either the first or last option. Without thinking about it, she tipped her upper body back as her leg cut through the air behind her in a graceful arch. _If he wants to watch, then let him watch. I am not going to pressure him into anything. We just arrived, so no rush._

So, with Bucky watching her every movement closely, Natasha twirled her way across the room, following steps long since imprinted in muscle memory. _"Neck long. Head up. Be proud,"_ the voice of her instructor echoed in her head. _"Cambré! Deeper."_ Natasha instinctively bent her upper back back even further to follow the phantom instructions. _"Yes. And ta-ta-ta."_ Her feet hit the ground in time with the voice in her head, arms rising above her head at the same time. _"Now, one, two – three."_ Natasha leaped off the ground with both feet at the same time into a perfect split, her arms aiding her in attaining the needed momentum.

A slight thud of feet was the only sound audible when she touched back down. And that footfall hadn't been her's. Bucky slowly came closer to the centre of the room. "I remember seeing you practice that," he said quietly. Without meaning to, Natasha felt her lips stretch into a fond smile. Still dancing, she circled around her friend. "It's no easy feat to become a ballerina," the woman replied and he smiled faintly.

"I used to say that whenever you were sad after a particularly harsh critique," Bucky turned with her in circles. "I… I used to call you 'Little Swan'."

"You know, I preferred 'Firebird'."

"It matches your hair colour better, yes."

Natasha finished another double pirouette without a single hitch or stumble. Her arms outstretched before her, head turned slightly to the side, chin up, just as she had learned. She raised herself to the tips of her toes. Her left leg slowly drew to the front to make a step. Without needing to gain momentum, she threw both legs in a kick-like movement up into the air and landed just as quietly as a cat. Bucky's familiar blue eyes followed her without fault.

Natasha quickly jumped a few paces away from her friend. "You know," she began with a challenging glint in her eyes, "You used to train with us. Tights and all." Bucky looked her square in the face, still no fear visible. He seemed more relaxed than she had seen him in the past weeks. _Even more than with Steve. Hm… Let's see, how this develops._

"Emphasis on 'used'," Bucky finally said. "I haven't danced like that in decades."

Natasha narrowed her eyes playfully. "There's a first time for everything. Unless," she deliberately paused, knowing he could be quite competitive, "You want to leave the dancing to the young folks, old man."

The look of pure astonishment on the brunet's face drew a genuine laugh from her. It didn't last long, however, as a menacing growl interrupted her. As expected, Bucky had narrowed his eyes at her, not really angry, merely irritated. _And there he is again. My best friend and instructor. My big brother of so many years ago._

Both assassins stared each other down. Muscles coiled, faces pulled into falsely composed expressions. Underneath the air was coiling and uncoiling, heavy with unspoken words. Natasha still keeping her balance en pointé. Bucky with his arms resting on his belt buckle.

Bucky was the first to break their staring contest. "I am not dancing anymore. But that doesn't mean, that I don't still know how."

Natasha felt her body take a step forward, as she challenged him further. "Prove it."

"I've been one of your instructors in hand to hand combat. Shouldn't you show a bit more respect?" Bucky gave her one of his half-grins that had had her classmates swooning instantly. The only reaction it got him was a bright sparkle in Natasha's eyes. "You're feeling very self-assured, aren't you?" He raised an eyebrow. It was more of a rhetorical question. "That can be dangerous, Little Swan."

As if on cue, the music changed to a new song. Natasha shifted along with it. Gone was the ballerina; out came a deadly assassin named Black Widow. Or part of her, in the form of an enchantress. She prowled towards her friend with purpose.

"Anything you can do, I can do better," Natasha challenged Bucky once again. His eyes crinkled in response in a silent smile. "No, you can't."

"Yes, I can."

"No. You can't."

"Yes, I can. Yes, I can. Yes, I can!" With every sentence, Natasha twirled closer towards the man. He watched her with a small grin. It was rare enough for Natasha to show off her dancing skills to anyone outside of sparring, but for her to taunt him with them, to outright use them in her challenge was something new. With a silent agreement, the two assassins fell into the routine they had established all those years ago. Muscle memory truly was something amazing.

Natasha whirled out of the brunet's reach quickly and he followed just as quickly. _I missed this,_ the redhead thought to herself. _I missed him._ She stopped in her pirouettes to, knowing that Bucky would catch her, dip forward. As they had done multiple times, she felt a familiar tug at her raised leg, keeping the ballerina from face planting into the floor. "Anything you can do, I can do greater." Another tug and Natasha was securely held against Bucky's chest. "I can do anything greater than you." Bucky gave her a light shove so Natasha could hurl herself in the air in a huge leap with her hands and arms outstretched.

As gracefully as a cat the assassin landed on her feet. Prancing around the man, Natasha shed the skin of the asset of some foreign force and turned back into the young girl she had been a long time ago. _I can do anything. I can become anything,_ she thought with an inner peace long since vanished from her adult self. _How much the simple presence of a long lost friend can do._

Bucky nodded at her, turning away from the ballerina and went over to the shooting stand. It was part of their little competitive workout. He picked up one of the hand-fire weapons – even if his distaste was visible in his face. "You don't have to do that," Natasha told him, stopping in her dance. Her friend shot her a single look over his shoulder, sorrowful eyes half hidden behind his long hair. He shot cleanly through the centre of the target at the other end of the room. "I can shoot a partridge with a single cartridge."

Steely blue clashed with blue-green. _Sadness_ , Natasha registered. _So much sadness and confusion. He has done enough. No more fighting for him._ Her eyes hardened with the resolve. Bucky noticed the change in the woman. His stance shifted along with it, obviously unsure on how to react to that.

Without so much as an indication, Natasha took a running start at him. On reflex, Bucky dropped the weapon in his hand to catch the Black Widow safely in his arms. "I can shoot a sparrow, with a bow and arrow," Natasha murmured in his ear. Miraculously producing the same weapon Bucky had used, she swiftly fired three shots at the same target – and hit the same mark Bucky had just moments before her.

"That was dangerous, Little Swan," Bucky mumbled into her hair. "What, if you had hit me?" Natasha gave an amused grunt. "Do you have no faith in me? I'm not a damsel in distress; I can handle myself." That drew a soft chuckle from her friend, still clutching her to his chest.

 _Huh_ , Natasha tilted her head ever so slightly. _Normally by now I'd be throwing the man holding me around like a ragdoll. Probably choking them or render them helpless in some other way._ She allowed Bucky to draw her against him, legs wrapped around his waist in a reverse piggyback ride. He seemed to think along the same lines she did, as Bucky quietly said: "Somehow whenever we fight, I end up between your legs – and this time I didn't even think we were fighting."

The redhead gave a low groan. She let her head drop heavily against her friend's shoulder, who didn't even flinch. "Do you boys always have to make it about that?"

An almost inaudible laugh. "No, we don't. It's just unusually convenient to do so."

"Convenient, huh?" Natasha leaned back to look into his face. _Yep, there's that stupid half-grin of his again. Just as I suspected. And I can't even be mad at him after everything he went through._ Lost in thought, she stared at her old instructor turned friend turned deadly assassin turned last freed prisoner of war. _No, I really can't be mad at him_ , she sighed deeply. _Even, if he shot me._

Bucky furrowed his brows, as if her prolonged silence was somewhat of a bad sign. "Is everything okay?" Natasha nodded her head. "Yes. Just don't think I will let you off easy, if you try to shoot me again," she announced in a playful tone. Bucky visibly retreated into his own head. Just as suddenly as the weight of his past had seemed to be lifted off his shoulders it dropped back down again. Fortunately, he didn't put Natasha down, which she deemed at least somewhat of a success. _Why did you have to say that?_ She berated herself. _You could have said literally anything else. Just nothing Winter related._

"I decided to go back under until they can fix my brain." Bucky hid behind his curtain of hair. "I don't want anyone to have power over me ever again." Natasha held utterly still, unwilling to frighten him with any kind of movement and shattering the moment. "T'Challa and his sister said they could work something out to remove the conditioning. But for it to work, I have to let them freeze me until they are sure it'll work the way it's supposed to. No risks this time."

"Is that your final decision?"

Slowly, the former Winter Soldier nodded his head. Natasha felt a part of her withering at the thought of losing her big brother again just after finding him. _But he's right. As long as HYDRA's words are in his brain he's a threat. Even, if he doesn't want to be._

With a sigh, Natasha rested her cheek against the side of his head. "When are you going to sleep?" She really didn't feel like calling it anything else, since it kind of was like a sleep – only in a much colder environment. "I was on my way," Bucky replied honestly. "I just needed to see my Little Swan one last time before Steve is the last good-bye."

A small thorn of jealousy pricked Natasha's heart. _Of course, Steve would be the last to see him before cryo. He's his best friend since childhood. I'm only his adopted little sister. It's not like I'm important or anything._

"Stop thinking that, Natalia." Bucky set her down. "You're just as important to me as Steve, but he'll be less accepting of my decision. He doesn't know what it's like to be twisted until you don't recognize yourself anymore. You do and I know, you'll understand my decision better than anyone else."

"How did you know, what I was thinking?" Even to her own ears Natasha's voice sounded like a defiant child. However, once the frown settled upon Bucky's features, she almost wished she could take the question back. "I don't know." He raked a hand through his hair in agitation. "I just know." His eyes settled back on her now carefully schooled mask of indifference. It didn't seem to deter him. "Please, take care of Steve for me, while I'm under. And Sam probably too. Steve's kind of adopted him…"

Natasha nodded her head once. "I'll see that they don't do anything too stupid or reckless." A humorous glint entered Bucky's eyes upon hearing that. "Thanks," he said and leaned in to kiss her forehead. His lips were hot against her skin. "I hope to see you soon, mládšij sestrá."

And before Natasha could even overcome the shock, the former Winter Soldier just slipped out of the room. To wander the halls of the palace down to the laboratory to let scientists freeze him in hopes of them finding a way to make his brain his own again. Natasha was rooted to the spot for several minutes before her train of thought returned to her. Blinking, the assassin came back to her senses. "See you soon, moj brat," she told the empty room.


End file.
